


so you heard i crossed over the line

by UbiquitousMixie



Series: lingering in another girl's paradise [2]
Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Kinktober, Mutual Masturbation, Sibling Incest, Spellcest, Spellcest Prompt Challenge, astral projection sex, obviously because that is my gc callsign, sisters literally doing it for themselves, swingin sisters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 15:56:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21018395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UbiquitousMixie/pseuds/UbiquitousMixie
Summary: A deleted scene from "these precious things" in which Zelda makes a late night visit -- via astral projection.





	so you heard i crossed over the line

**Author's Note:**

> I swear I am still working on 'these precious things'! In honor of the gc's Kinktober challenge, I thought I'd post this little deleted scene. I completely imagine this having happened, but it doesn't quite fit in with the narrative I'm working with at the moment. Featuring: astral projection, mutual masturbation, biting. Let me know your thoughts!  
Title from "Give" by Tori Amos

The first sparrow is restless tonight.

She understands its impatience -- it’s been so, so long since she’s seen Zelda, since they’ve shared any moment, intimate or otherwise. Her heart pounds as she places the worn, beloved photograph between the pages of her book to mark her page. 

The moment her eyes focus on Zelda over the rim of her glasses, she knows exactly what type of visit this will be, and Hilda’s heart races all the more for it. 

Lucky for them that sisters don’t require pleasantries and small talk.

“I dreamt of you last night,” Hilda says, her tone light, as if she were telling her sister of the weather. She closes her book and sets it on the nightstand. “I had been thinking of you all day, so it wasn’t a surprise to find you in my dreams, right here in my flat.” 

Praise Satan -- Zelda’s astrally projected form actually blushes, and Hilda is immensely pleased that she splurged on the ornate Turkish lamp on her nightstand, perfectly illuminating the vision before her. Zelda is resplendent in purple silk. The hem sweeps the floor, but the high slit to her thigh reveals a beautiful, translucently pale leg, and all Hilda can think about is pressing her lips to all that softness. She closes her eyes for a moment, swaying in the heady lull of arousal. 

“Tell me about the dream,” Zelda demands sharply, though her lusty gaze betrays the sincerity of her cruelty. One thin strap slips over her shoulder. 

What Hilda would give to sink her teeth into that flesh, to nip at her sister’s milky collarbone.

“You were naked,” Hilda says, and Zelda’s lips part. She clenches and unclenches her fists at her sides. “I wasn’t. You were waiting in my bed, bare as a newborn babe.” Hilda pushes away her blanket, uncovering bare legs and a cotton nightgown that rests at mid-thigh. “Only...your legs were spread, and your hand was between them.” 

Zelda hisses out a breath, sliding a hand down her thigh. She caresses the flesh just above her knee. “Here?” 

“Higher,” Hilda croaks, mimicking her sister’s path. She mutters a quick spell, vanishing away her soaked cotton knickers, exposing herself to Zelda’s voracious stare. She can feel how slick and swollen she is. And then, finally, Hilda’s fingers are stroking against her sex and by the way the older witch gasps, Zelda’s are pressed against her own beneath silk. 

It’s all the more infuriating and exciting and tempting that she can’t see exactly what Zelda’s fingers are doing. The tease is exquisite -- it will warm her thoughts and stir her imagination for decades to come -- but Hilda would give anything to see her sister’s fingers work their magic.

Another psychopomp appears, and Hilda must remind herself that they don’t have all night for her to describe all of her fantasies. She needs to make this count. “I couldn’t stand the thought of missing out. I couldn’t even wait to take my dress off. You pulled me onto the bed with you, pressed me back right here against these pillows, and you straddled me.”

“Oh,” Zelda sighs, breathless. She sways forward, as if struggling to hold herself back from moving closer. 

“We didn’t just kiss this time,” Hilda explains, her fingers skimming along the length of her slit. “You begged for three of my fingers, Zelds, and I gave them to you.”

Zelda’s pink, fuckable mouth falls open and she moans, and the raw desperation in her voice and the quick pace of her hand beneath her gown is very nearly Hilda’s undoing. “You rode my fingers so hard, sister. It was, _oh Satan_, it was magnificent.” She slides a finger inside herself, so tight, so wet. She knows Zelda can hear just how aroused she is, even with the muffled glide of her palm against her clitoris. “I swear to Satan, my wrist's been aching all day.” 

“Hilda,” Zelda moans, and four agitated psychopomps flutter around the room. She grabs at her breast, pinching her nipple between her fingers as she squeezes, and Hilda mimics her pose, her own nipple taut against her palm. “I licked and sucked at your throat and when you felt my teeth, when I bit you, you—“ she has to pause to moan, hips rising to meet the desperate pace of her own hand. “You came so hard for me,” Hilda says with a whimper, grinding down against her finger, wishing more than anything in the world that Zelda would simply appear, swat her hands away, and finish the job herself. 

But shame has its hooks in deep, and she knows Zelda too well than to get carried away by a foolish fantasy. She settles for what she can get. 

“Come for me now, Zelda.” 

Zelda never does what Hilda says, not ever, so when her older sister comes with a throaty cry, Hilda is so surprised and so pleased that she stumbles blindly into bliss. She sees stars, can hear nothing more than the raucous pounding of her heart. 

When she opens her eyes, Zelda is still there, lips parted, turbulent blue eyes watching. The psychopomps are frenzied now. They have only seconds. “Will you come back to me soon?”

Zelda vanishes on her whispered, “Yes.”

-


End file.
